


go steady with it

by actualbluesargent



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Charity Shop AU, M/M, gratuitous pop culture references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 13:45:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15607575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actualbluesargent/pseuds/actualbluesargent
Summary: Monty starts volunteering in the Grounders charity shop mostly because he's bored. He didn't really expect to run into a cute guy there, but stranger things have happened, right?





	go steady with it

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like it's important to note that I'm uploading this before the season five finale airs. Also, I refuse to acknowledge S5 Miller #notmynatemiller

Monty starts working in the Grounder charity shop mostly for something to do. Which he knows, as Jasper felt compelled to inform him, is pretty sad, but he’s had no luck getting a “real” job, and honestly, sitting around doing nothing but playing video games after the craziness that was his freshman year of college feels pretty anticlimactic.

So here he is, at 11 am on a Tuesday morning, sitting cross-legged in the Grounder stockroom, sorting through jewellery. Indra, the woman who runs the place, seems to give them pretty much free reign. This means that if the staff are able to do whatever the want in the shop if they feel it benefits the place, but simultaneously she’ll assign them any range of tasks if she feels they aren’t working hard enough. Which, Monty feels, is probably the right approach, if the amount of times he’s seen Fox just _on her phone_ in the _middle of the shop_ is to say anything.

The place has more staff than he actually thought it would, which is pretty cool, and also means it takes him a while before he meets everyone. There’s Clarke, who organises the place with a ferocity and passion Monty doesn’t think he has for _anything_ . Usually on the till is Octavia, who seems to only been kept on because she’s charmed Indra. Which is wild, because Indra gives off a definite _un-charmable_ vibe. Zeke, who he’s never actually spoken to, but who works the shifts after him, and always nods at him whenever they pass each other coming in and out of the shop. Usually around is Jackson, who’s friendly, if a little quiet. He pays an amount of attention to the shop that Monty feels it deserves - care, but not like, a weird amount.

Miller’s the last one he meets, which shouldn’t feel as big a deal as it is.

So, again, on a Tuesday at 11 am. Cross-legged. Sorting jewellery.

Part of the reason Monty likes sorting jewellery is that he’s basically left to his own devices, with no reason to dodge customers or, worse, help them. He gets to listen to his podcasts while he does it, as long as Indra doesn’t come upstairs, so he’s totally content.

He is, admittedly, close to being _in the zone_ , when he hears footsteps coming up the stairs to the stockroom. He pulls his earphones out of his ears, which is made slightly difficult since he currently has four necklaces tangled in his fingers, but he manages it. Indra’s the first to come up the stairs, but she’s followed by a guy Monty’s never seen before and - damn.

Attraction, for Monty, has always been a little weird, in a way he feels isn’t as common in the bi community as he’d like it to be. Jasper, and his ex-girlfriend, Harper, always saw it like, there was so many more choices for potential partners, but really it just leaves Monty more confused than he already would be. Not - “confused” in the way assholes think, but like - this guy is really hot, do I want to be him or make out with him?

But when he sees this guy follow Indra up the stairs - hair shaved close to his head, light stubble, a green beanie pulled over his ears - he feels a tightness in his gut he has no trouble interpreting.

“Miller, this is Monty,” Indra says, gesturing to where Monty is on the floor. Monty attempts to wave, but with the tangle his hands are currently in, he has a little trouble pulling it off.

“Hey,” he says, and the guy - Miller - gives him one of those bro-nods, which is less a nod than his head jerking upwards.

He’s wearing a dark Henley, which just shows off a broad chest and shoulders and -

Monty’s screwed, for sure. The two of them vanish into Indra’s office, to talk logistics of the next week or whatever, and Monty’s left to return to sorting jewellery, with the knowledge of a hot guy in Indra’s office. He doesn’t want to put his earphones in again, in case he doesn’t hear Indra coming out of her office, so he’s just sorting jewellery, in fear.

He walks past Monty when he goes back downstairs, just giving him a small wave before heading down the stairs. Monty raises a hand in response, and he can probably manage to be cool. A lot of the people who work in the shop are attractive. He can deal with this.

Monty’s not in the shop everyday, so it’s a few days before he’s on with Miller again. It’s Sunday, one of their quietest days, so it’s just the two of them and Fox, with Indra in her office upstairs. Fox is, officially, working in the stock room, but Monty suspects she's just up there watching YouTube videos until Indra kicks her out.

Miller’s on the till, aka Monty’s favourite way to spend a Sunday, because when the shop’s that quiet, he can just dick around on his phone, or read a comic book or something.

Miller seems to have the same idea, because he’s got some book open on the desk next to the till, setting it aside when a customer comes over. Monty’s spent the morning since he came in tidying the shop, but there's only so many times he can alphabetise the books and rearrange the rings before he goes insane. His innate nerdy, shy nature is, of course, telling him _not_ to speak to the cute boy, but sometimes, boredom overrides one’s own nature.

“What are you reading?” he asks, leaning against the till.

Miller looks up at him, lifting his book so the cover faces Monty. _Song of Myself,_ Walt Whitman.

Monty raises his eyebrows.

“English major,” Miller explains, with a hint of a smile.

“Ah,” Monty says. “Engineering,”

“Shit,” Miller says, shaking his head. Which, honestly, is kind of the standard response Monty gets.

He smiles. “That’s the general vibe, yeah,”

There’s enough of a pause that Monty begins to consider abandoning the conversation to go analyse the earrings again, when Miller asks, “Where do you go?”

“Uh - ” Monty pauses. “Ark U? Up north?”

“You’re kidding,” Miller says. “Me too,”

Monty lets out a laugh in disbelief, and Miller definitely gives him a smile, then, like this is isn’t the coolest coincidence ever. Monty doesn’t know anyone from his hometown at Ark, since it’s pretty much a Pacific Northwest place.

Monty has to step aside as a customer comes in, but once Miller’s dealt with her, he speaks again.

“I actually know someone doing eng. in Ark,”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Raven Reyes, do you know her?”

Monty knows, intellectually, that there are hundreds of people in the engineering department ar Ark, but he can’t help but laugh.

“Shit, I actually do. She was my lab partner in my first semester. She’s a total badass,” he can’t help but enthuse, but honestly, ever since he met Raven Reyes, he’s been wanting to share how awesome she is with someone who’s not gonna say ‘ _What, dude, do you have a crush on her or something?_ ’

Thanks, Jasper.

Miller doesn’t smile again, but his eyes look amused, at least. “She is. Takes no shit,”

“Exactly!” Monty grins. “How do you know her?”

Miller doesn’t answer straight away. “It’s - complicated. Well, more weird. She used to date a guy on my floor, and then when he cheated on her, she slept with my best friend.”

Monty takes a moment to process that. “Yeah, that’s pretty weird.”

Miller ducks his head, and it’s not quite a smile or a laugh, but it’s something.

The charity shop just got _very_ interesting.

-

“Yeah, I started reading a webcomic, of all things. But anyway, how’s Grounders going? Any drama? Anyone try to rob you?” Harper asks, her words coming a millisecond after her lips move.

“Hilarious,” Monty says, rolling his eyes.

Facetiming Harper every other Wednesday night was Harper’s idea, about a month after they broke up. She was going to be moving halfway across the country for college, and her parents had just divorced, so she was moving in with her dad anyway. Long distance didn’t look like it was going to work, and honestly, their relationship had run its course. He still loved her, and she loved him, but - not like that.

He knows he’s lucky to keep her in his life, and she isn’t slow to remind him.

“That’s not an answer, Green.”

“Well,” Monty bites his lip for a second. “There’s this guy there, Miller - ”

“Ohmygod,” she says, all one word. “Do you have a crush?!”

He laughs. “Harper! I barely know him! He’s just… eye candy, for now.”

Harper wags a finger at the screen. “For now!”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “For now.”

-

He’s in the shop about a month before he learns that the existence of Miller, a cute boy, isn’t the most exciting thing about working there.

The most exciting thing doesn’t seem like anything special when it begins. Monty’s sitting on the stairs, putting bracelets into two boxes - gross, and not gross. From where he’s sitting, he’s got a decent view of the shop, without being in complete view of all the customers.

This is when Octavia’s brother walks in.

Monty’s seen Bellamy Blake a couple of times before. He always waits outside the shop at the end of Octavia’s shifts, to collect her, and he’s come in a few other times, buying the men’s shirts and t-shirts that are in the one dollar basket. He’s been polite, kind of sarcastic, when dealing with Octavia, and _insanely_ hot.

But Monty’s never seen him when Clarke’s been in the shop.

He wanders through the shop for a second, and comes to an awkward stop a few feet away from the till.

“Griffin,” he says, like she’s surprised him. Like he hasn’t just walked into her place of work.

“Blake,” she answers, wary.

He runs the back of his neck. “Is, uh, O here? I couldn’t remember if she was on today.”  
“Not today, no,” she says. She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, but he beats her to it.

“How’s your summer going? You still in Eden?”

“No, I dropped out, transferring to Ark in the fall.”

Clarke’s counting the cash in the till, so she misses it, but Bellamy’s face practically lights up. “Seriously?”

“No, not seriously.” she chides, her voice all serious, but she’s smiling. “You know the pre-med programme’s way better at Eden.”

Bellamy shakes his head. “You know I don’t know that, Princess.”

“And you know I told you to stop calling me that.” her voice is harsh, and something like regret flashes on Bellamy’s face. “What about you? Get into any fights lately?

“Oh my god, you see me punch a guy _once -_ ”

“It was multiple guys, and I found you at the end of the fight!”

Bellamy leans on his elbows on the till. “Well, they deserved it.”

She bats him on the head with a pen. “Don’t be a dick,”

“That’s literally impossible, but I appreciate that you think I could be better.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Shut up, Blake.”

The side of Bellamy’s mouth lifts in what Monty thinks is a smile, before he takes a step back. “I should go. Good to see you, Princess,” he says, heading for the door.

“Wish I could say the same.” she calls after him, and Monty feels the need to scarper up the stairs and pretend he didn’t see anything, even though nothing _actually_ happened.

-

“Dude,” Monty says to Miller the next day. “Do you know Octavia’s older brother?”

He means it in a generic way, like, does he know Octavia has an older brother, and would he recognise him. He’s not prepared for Miller’s actual response.

“Yeah, Bellamy. He’s my best friend. We went to high school together. Why?”

The two of them are upstairs, pricing the new dresses that have come in. Neither of them know shit about fashion, so they’re pricing them on a “Would My Mom Wear This” scale.

Monty’s brain stutters for a second. “Did you know he comes in here to flirt with Clarke?”

Miller just laughs. “Oh, so you finally saw that clusterfuck go down, huh?

Monty blinks at him. “I’m so confused.”

“Yeah, Bellamy’s basically been in love with her since the dawn of time. But you know, he’s incompetent, so he could never just _make a move_ . And then he was gonna, like, after winter of our senior year, but then he finds out Clarke is moving with her mom to North Carolina, and she’s going to college there, so what’s the point in making a move _now_ when he’s just gonna get his heart broken?”

It’s the most he’s ever heard Miller say in the short time he’s known him, but he doesn’t even get time to appreciate that, because he has way too many follow up questions. Before he gets a chance, Miller holds up a red, frilly monstrosity.

“Eight dollars?”

Monty nods. “Then what is she doing here now?”

Miller just shrugs. “Beats me. Our parents used to be friends when we were younger, so I know her family, but things have been pretty weird lately.”

“So what does that mean for her and Bellamy?” Monty asks, squinting at the “dress” he’s trying to price.

“Y’know, I have a suspicion we’ll find out soon enough,” Miller says, leaning towards him like it’s a secret. “That one’s a five, I’d say.”

Monty drifts into thought, then. He thinks of Bellamy, with dark curls, tan skin, freckles and broad shoulders - and well, he saw the way he looked at Clarke. There’s no way a girl like Clarke - that is, a girl with _eyes_ \- could _not_ be into that. His only conclusion is that the distance thing must have scared her too, because Clarke is the kind of proactive that Monty dreams of being, and he can’t help but think she’d have acted on it by now. Whatever “it” is.

“What’s also wild,” Monty says, after a few more minutes of pricing in silence.  “Is that everyone in this shop goes to Ark?”

Miller looks at him out of the corner of his eye. “Dude, it’s just you and me,”

“And Octavia’s brother.”

“Yeah, but that’s ‘cause Bellamy couldn’t last a second without me,” Miller laughs, and Monty can’t help but laugh too.

- 

“So Bellamy is Octavia’s brother,” Harper says. “And he went to high school with Clarke and Miller. Miller is the cute guy?”

“Not part of the story, McIntyre.”

“I’m taking that as a yes. Why do we care about Clarke and Bellamy?”

“Because it’s like,” Monty tries to grasp for words. “Fate shit. Y’know? Like, _Atonement_.”

“Who’s atoning for what now?”

“Not atonement, _Atonement._ Ian McEwan! Keira Knightley! James McAvoy!” he sighs when she shows no recognition. “Harper, you made me watch that movie.”

She snaps her fingers. “No, got it. _Atonement._ ”

“Yeah, so, it’s like in Atonement - Robbie finally admits his love for Cecelia, just to be sent to prison, or the war, or whatever. And then they meet again in London, before he has to go to France and she becomes a nurse, and all their history is there, but there’s still the sting of her sister’s betrayal - ”

“I think you’re getting off topic, babe,”

Monty sighs. “They should have lived happy ever after, Harp,”

“I know, Monty, I know.”

“So, Clarke and Bellamy _have_ to resolve… whatever their weird tension is. They have to.”

“I’m on your side in this, bud. So, anyway, about that webcomic - ”

-

Monty wouldn’t say he’s made it his mission to get Bellamy and Clarke together, because he definitely wouldn’t consider himself competent enough to do that, but he’s got to at least put some effort into it, right?

He’s downstairs with Clarke, with him on the till. He feels gross and sweaty, because he just dealt with a customer who decided to buy forty dollars worth of one dollar shirts, but insisted on him folding each one, and also, it’s stupid humid. When the customer leaves, he wipes his arm across his forehead.

Clarke looks at him with sympathy. “Do you want me to get you an iced coffee?”

He says, “Yes, please,” but he hopes she gets the implied “If you do, you can have my first born child.”

She’s not gone too long, and when she comes back she looks a little flustered.

“You’re my hero,” Monty says when she passes him his iced hazelnut latte (no, it’s not a girly drink, suck a dick, _Jasper_ ). “You alright?”

Clarke looks around the empty shop, like she’s about to reveal covert information. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. It’s just - Bellamy was in the coffee shop. You know, Octavia’s brother?”

Monty nods slowly, like a billion alarm bells aren’t going off in his head. “Yeah, I know him. He works there?”

“Yeah,” Clarke nods. “I don’t - I don’t know why I was surprised to see him. _He’s_ the one who lives here, after all.

Monty narrows his eyes. “You mean, you don’t?

Clarke ducks her head, self-deprecating, like she forgot Monty doesn’t know her whole life story.

“I live with my mom on the east coast, but I’m staying with my friend Wells for the summer. Things with my mom and my stepdad haven’t been… too great, lately.”

Monty nods. “So how do you know Bellamy?”

“We went to highschool together. And we were always - it’s like he got a kick out of picking fights with me, y’know? Like every opinion I had, he disagreed with just for fun. But, I don't know. I don’t think he knows I remember, but one time at a party, just after my ex-girlfriend dumped me, I got _way_ too drunk, and he took really good care of me. He was so soft, then, and I can’t believe that guy is the same guy who called out _Princess_ when he was giving me the coffee earlier.”

“Huh,” Monty says, because that really is a lot of information.

A blush takes over her cheeks, like she realises she just dumped all this information that definitely paints her as having a crush on Bellamy Blake. But it also looks like she hasn’t had anyone to talk to about it, and Monty is _glad_ to be a pair of sympathetic ears.

“Maybe he’s embarrassed,” he offers. Clarke’s eyebrows shoot up. “Like, okay, I’m bi, right? So masculinity has been a weird tightrope for me to deal with to begin with. But for a lot of guys, me - a bi dude - included, being, I don’t know, _tender_ and _caring_? That’s like. Dangerous. Especially if, like, you try to keep up a macho exterior. Which, no offense, Bellamy seems like the kind of guy who was like that in high school,”

Clarke shakes her head. “It’s like you knew him,”

Monty smiles. “I knew a lot of guys like that in high school, trust me.”

“You’re not that bad, Green,” Clarke says, raising her coffee in a salute. He raises his as well, and they cheers.

-

A few days later, Monty’s trying (and failing) to organise the 50c boxes on the floor when Miller comes in. Unconsciously, Monty’s eyes drop to the round rainbow pin on his bag strap. His heart jumps to his throat, and his voice is choked when he goes to reply to Miller’s ‘Hey’.

The problem with Miller is that he is _still_ stupidly handsome. Usually, when Monty meets someone hot, their attractiveness wears off after a while, like getting used to the sun after stepping out of a dark room. But with Miller, it’s like every time he sees him, he’s struck by how good-looking he is. The line of his jaw, light stubble, long eyelashes. He crosses his arms across his chest and Monty is bowled over by all the muscle going on there. One time he wore a blue polo short, with sleeves that tightened around his biceps, and Monty nearly passed out.

And now he’s _gay?_ Not certainly, obviously but. Probably. Not that this makes Monty’s crush on him any more possible, but it opens a door Monty hadn’t even known was shut.

Great.

“Oh,” Monty says, when Miller comes back downstairs. He scrambles to his feet, and leans against the wall where Miller’s hanging up scarves. He drops his voice, because Octavia is on the till, and this is definitely the gossip she’d be interested in. “I was talking to Clarke the other day,”

He’s not actually sure of how invested in the Clarke/Bellamy drama Miller is, but he’ll be damned if he keeps all this information to himself.

“And?” Miller says, eyes still on the scarves. Monty tells him what Clarke had said, embellishing with what _he_ thinks her inner monologue was like.

“Those crazy kids,” Miller says, after. Monty lets out a surprised bark of laughter, but immediately blushes when he realises that there are customers around, and he really shouldn’t be gossiping like this.

“Well, I don’t know how open you are to, like, meddling, but if you want, you could… I don’t know. Mention it. To Bellamy,”

Miller looks over at him. “I’ll do you one better,” he says, but doesn’t elaborate.

-

A couple of days later, when Monty comes downstairs halfway through his shift, he finds Miller on the till.

“Hey,”

Miller looks up. “Hey.”

Monty walks around to the front of the till, starts sorting through the boxes on the desk, trying to fix the variety of the ‘FOUR 4 $1’ bracelets. Miller leans on his elbows, and Monty really tries not to check out his forearms. Just to be polite.

“How old are you?” Miller asks, and Monty blinks at him, for a second.

“Uh, twenty in September?”

Miller frowns. “Yeah, I thought maybe.”

“Is that a… bad thing? I assume you were twenty, once.”

Miller laughs, and something in Monty’s stomach flutters, like it always did, and he wants to cherish that sound, commit it to memory forever.

“Nah, man, it’s just - It’s my birthday next week, and we were gonna go to a bar to celebrate, but if you’re not twenty-one, we might do something else.”

Monty has to process that for a second - Miller thinks they’re close enough that he’d _invite him_ to his birthday, and likes him enough that he’d change the plans for him. Something like hope swells in his chest, and he tries to ignore it.

He feels like the fates have aligned, when he gets to say, “Well, I have a fake ID,”

Miller looks up at him through his eyelashes, like the prettiest macho guy _ever_. “Seriously?”

“You clearly don’t know me well enough if you think I’m joking.”

“Awesome,” Miller says, and Monty’s heart sings. “Next Wednesday, eight o’clock. Do you know where McIntyre’s is?”

“Oh, my ex-girlfriend’s family used to own it,” Monty says, with a grin. He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of telling Harper about _that_.

Something indistinguishable crosses Miller’s face, and he clears his throat. “Yeah, well. See you then, yeah?”

“Yeah, see you then!” he smiles, before pausing. “Oh, Miller?”

Miller raises his eyebrows in question.

“What should I get you?”

“Dude, if you get me something, I’m throwing you out of there.”

-

“He invited you to his _birthday_?” Harper exclaims.

“I know!”

“You guys haven’t even known each other that long. This has to mean something, right?”

Monty tries not to grin too wide. “I mean, I hope so. But I don’t want to read too much into it. Maybe he just thinks I’m fun to be around! Just because he’s gay and I’m a guy, that doesn’t mean he’s attracted to me! Like, I’m not attracted to every guy _I’m_ friends with - ”

“Wait,” Harper says. “He’s gay?”

“Didn’t I tell you? He has a pride pin on his bag,”

“Holy shit,” she says, grinning.

“Holy shit.” Monty agrees. “Oh my god, also, I started that webcomic you were telling me about, and it is - ”

-

To say Monty’s nervous about Miller’s birthday is an understatement. It’s their first time hanging out outside of the shop - hell, it’s his first time hanging out with anyone from the shop. Plus, there’s probably a load of people he doesn’t know there, people from Miller’s high school, or from Ark that he doesn’t know.

But Miller will be there. So at least there’s that.

He pushes the door to McIntyre’s open, and is immediately met with the sounds of a party well underway. There’s some definite shit-talking going down somewhere, really loud, and a bunch of people are surrounding the pool table, but he can’t actually see who’s playing.

“Monty!” someone cries, and he turns to see _Clarke_ pushing through the throng of people towards him. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I could say the same to you!” he laughs as she envelops him in a hug.

“Oh, me and Miller go way back,” she says with a conspiratorial wink. Monty wants to say he knows, and like everytime he talks to her, it’s on the tip of his tongue to tell her about the Bellamy thing.

“Talking shit about me, Griffin?” Miller teases, appearing almost out of nowhere. “Hey, Monty. Glad you came.”

“Hey,” Monty smiles, feeling his ears burning at the glint in Miller’s eyes as they make eye contact. He, also, is glad he came.

“Do you - do either of you need a drink?” Miller says then. “I left Bellamy by the bar, and I don’t trust him to be social on his own.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Clarke says, but she’s already heading towards the bar. Miller makes a pointed look at Monty, and he can’t help grin.

He knew that Miller, Clarke and Bellamy all went to school together, but it’s weird seeing all three of them in the same place. Bellamy lifts his glass as a greeting when they all arrive, but his eyes are on Clarke.

Monty focuses his attention on Miller, like he’s trying to give the other two privacy, when realistically, he just wants to talk to Miller.

“I’ve gotta admit, I’m surprised,” he says.

Miller laughs. Those seem to be more and more frequent, the longer Monty knows him. “At what?”

Monty takes a deliberate pause. “With your surly nature, I’m surprised you have this many friends.”

That gets Miller to laugh again, and Monty bites his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard. He must be leaning a bit forward in his stool, because Miller takes a step back. There’s something in his eyes - something calculating and unsure, that Monty can’t figure out the reason for, but it’s gone as fast as it arrives.

They order drinks, and Miller pulls himself up onto the stool next to Monty, and he’s thrilled.

- 

“Your name isn’t actually Miller, is it?” Monty asks, after a few ciders. Miller raises his eyebrows at him.

“No, it definitely is.”

Monty blushes. “No, I mean - you have a first name. I presume.”

Miller laughs, looking away, like Monty’s too much. “Yeah. Nathan. Nate.”

“Nate,” Monty says, softly, getting a taste for the word in his mouth. “Is it cool if I call you that? Miller always felt so bro-ish to me,”

“Are you saying I’m not bro-ish?” Miller - _Nate_ asks. “I play on Ark’s hockey team.”

“No, you are, but I’m definitely not. I’ve never called anyone bro in my life.” Monty says, but then - “Wait, the hockey team?”

“Yeah?” Nate says, like Monty asked him if he knew his own name.  
“Just like Check, Please!” Monty breathes. Realising what he said, like a giant nerd, he feels heat rush to his cheeks.

“What?”

“Oh, uh, it’s this webcomic?” he says, avoiding eye contact, an old nerdy defense mechanism kicking back in after years. “It’s called Check, Please! It’s about this college hockey team. My friend Harper recommended it to me, and I just finished it earlier, so it’s kind of… on my mind. Lately. Sorry.”

Nate’s confusion is replaced by this soft smile, and Monty has to look away. “I’ll check it out sometime,” he says.

“You better,” Monty says, turning to face him. Miller’s eyes are still on him, almost sad in their gentleness. God, when he met him, he never thought he could be like this. Soft. Open. Heartbreaking in just the glow in his eyes.

“Monty?” Nate says, even though Monty’s looking at him.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for coming.” and he says it with such a weight that Monty’s nearly speechless.

-

The next day, Monty is unfairly hungover, and in need of brunch.

So he calls Jasper.

“Dude,” Jasper says, sliding into the booth across from him. They’ve been coming to the Mt. Weather diner ever since they could drive places on their own - for brunch, for dinner, for stoner meals. The staff know them, and it’s part of what makes home Home. Even if it’s full of grease stains and the menus haven’t been changed since the 1980’s. “What were you last night?”

“That’s half why I wanted you here. I was at this birthday thing for one of the guys in the shop,” he begins.

Jasper’s eyebrows shoot up. “You’re making friends there? Cool,” he says, his voice nearly coming out even. If Monty didn't know him as well, he’d believe he wasn't mildly jealous. But that wasn't the point.

“You could say that. I actually, uh - ” he swallows. “I have a crush on him. His name’s Nate,”

He can see as Jasper schools his expression to something neutral and supportive. On paper, Jasper loves him and supports him no matter what his sexuality is. In reality, he's always been a little weird when Monty talks about guys. He tries, though.

“Yeah? What's he like?”

“Kind of surly, I guess? Like, strong and silent type. He's an English major. And _Jas,_ he has these _arms_.”

Jasper lets out a surprised laugh. “Dude. Nice.”

Monty grins. “And the best part is - I think he might like me too.”

“Ooh,” Jasper says. “That's the worst part,”

“I know,” Monty groans. “What do I do?”

“Be patient, man,” Jasper says, leaning back against the booth. “Let him know you’re interested, but don’t weird him out.”

“You sound _so_ experienced,”

“You’re not allowed mock me when I’m giving you advice, dude.”

“Whatever. Order your pancakes.”

-

Monty comes into the shop a few days later for his first shift of the week. He knows it’s summer, but does it really need to be so unfairly hot? He’s almost tempted to buy a new t-shirt to change into when he catches sight of Nate at the till.

Nate looks up, and a grin takes over his entire face. “Oh my god, Monty,”

Monty joins him at the till, weaving around the various jewellery racks. “What?”

“I started that webcomic, Check Please? And oh my god. It’s amazing.”

“Oh my god, right?” Monty enthuses. “I couldn’t tear myself away. It’s so funny!”

“So funny!”

Monty wants to bask in this moment, this shared excitement with Nate, the way his eyes sparkle and the cadence of his voice. He is, of course, interrupted.

“Monty? Is that you?” a voice calls from up the stairs. He scrunches his nose.

“Uh, yes?”

A rhythmic thumping announces Clarke as she skips down the stairs to join them. “Hey! I thought that was you.”

Monty looks at Nate, and then Clarke. “You got me. What’s up?”

“I have something for you,” she says, cutting her eyes sideways at Nate. Monty raises an eyebrow at her. From behind her back, she produces a bisexual pride flag. “Tada!”

Monty reaches to take it out of her hands immediately. “Oh, wow, thanks. Where did you get it, all of a sudden?”

“I had a few knocking around my house from after pride, and I figured we can always have more bi pride. I know the flags are hard to find.”

“Damn straight,” he murmurs, twiddling the flag in mid-air.

“Damn _bi_ ,” Clarke corrects, and he rolls his eyes, but can’t help but smile.

“Thanks, Clarke,” he says, tucking the flag into a side-pocket in his bag.

Clarke gives him and Nate another quick look. “Well, I just wanted to give you that. I’ll head back up before Indra kills me.” And with that, she sped back up the stairs.

“That was so cool of her,” Monty says to Nate. Nate, who’s looking at him eyes wide, some kind of disbelief. “What? Didn’t you know Clarke was bi?”

Nate makes a kind of strangled sound. “No, I knew Clarke was bi. I- I didn’t know _you_ were.”

Monty blinks. “Are you kidding?”

“I - ” Nate’s breath catches. “I thought you were straight.”

Monty lets out a bark of laughter. “What?!”

“You - you have an ex-girlfriend? Ninety percent of the time, in my expert experience, that points to totally straight.”

Monty bites his lip, almost wants to comment on how big a deal Nate is making of this. “Well, not me, man.”

“Huh,” Nate says.

“Yep,” Monty says, popping the ‘P’. “I’m gonna head upstairs. We got loads of new jewellery in yesterday.

How he keeps his cool as he heads upstairs is beyond him. Honestly, it’s more like his body’s on autopilot, just ignoring his racing heart as he floats above, watching it do its thing. He knows from looking at the roster that he and Nate finish at the same time, and that thought lingers in the back of his mind for the whole time he’s fixing labels on the new jewellery, making his fingers shake.

At 16:59, he hears the soft padding footsteps of Nate coming upstairs. “Griffin,” he calls. “You’re on the till.”

He looks to Monty, then, his gaze heavy with intent. Monty wouldn’t say he’s exactly gifted with picking up signals, but he’s not a total idiot. He pulls himself off the floor, shaking out the pins-and-needles in his feet. He crosses the room and knocks on Indra’s door, letting her know he’s leaving.

“Ready to go?” Nate says, and Monty’s stomach does a flip. He follows Nate downstairs, weaving past the jewellery and out of the shop. They walk for a few seconds past the shop when Nate turns to face him. He does it quickly, so Monty stops a little close to him. Nate looks at him, his eyes scanning Monty’s face, like he could find answers there.

“Okay,” Nate says, and Monty’s about to ask what he means when Nate leans in to kiss him. He can feel the purpose behind it, the statement, and Monty’s hand goes to rest on Nate’s shoulder. He kisses him back, relishes in the scrape of stubble against his chin, in the way his head tilts up to kiss Nate. Nate’s hand steadies him on his elbow, and Monty has to break away, his smile too wide. He lets out a soft laugh, looking up at Nate with this giddy feeling coursing through his veins.

“Monty,” Nate breathes.

“Nate,” Monty replies, mouth turning up in a smile, tone teasing.

“Do you wanna go out, sometime?”

Monty grins. “I’d love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you've read any of my fics before, you'll know i push my own interests on the characters. please watch atonement and read check, please! thank you goodnight


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